Smashed
by APHIxchel
Summary: Set in the Mexican-American war. All about how Ixchel, South Mexico, and Pablo, North Mexico make a hard decision against America. UPDATE: ON HIATUS until I get some inspiration.


Drama and fan fiction… My first EVER! (Don't kill me if this sucks!) w

"Give me one good reason I shouldn't shoot." Alfred demanded calmly.

He cocked the pistol against Pablo's head. On the ground, Ix Chel knelt sobbing for America to let her brother go.

" He's my only brother I have in the whole world! He's one of Spain's favorite children! I would give anything to you! Just don't shoot!" She begged through muffled sobs.

"Alright then." Alfred thought on her offer for a minute.

"Fine. Give me your glasses…Y'know? California, Arizona, Nevada, Colorado, Utah, California, oh, and New Mexico." He replied in a cold, jokingly manner.

The truth was that Alfred was internally killing himself. The sight of two siblings' care towards each other made him weep, but, there was only one way to gain the southwest territories.

"No Ixchel, don't! He can kill me! That's the only territory we have left in the Americas!" Pablo pleaded.

"Cállate Pablo!" Alfred and Pablo both jumped. Alfred secured the gun more tightly in his hand.

She took the pair of glasses off, kissed them, and slowly walked to, in her opinion, a monster of a man. Alfred could feel that the other country had stopped struggling.

Ixchel then put the glasses onto Alfred's head. Roughly, America shoved South Mexico and felt his face.

Finally.

It felt complete. All those days of wondering what was missing from his life were now gone. He then looked back on the Mexican twins. He could see that Pablo was fighting back unwanted sobs.

"I'll take my leave then. H-have a good day." Alfred then walked away to his horse, saddled up and rode away- far away, back to his country. Once he knew he was close to his house, he started to openly weep. Never in his life before had he badly damaged a relationship. Only after did he then start to feel strangely… Proud.

The next day, at the conference of the nations, he saw no sign of south and north Mexico. After many more quiet conferences, only Pablo started to show up. More sad and solemn fixtures covered his face. His childlike and jokester self was gone. Germany was the first one to ask about the whereabouts of Ixchel.

"She was feeling rather ill today. She has come down with a bad flu."

His eyes told otherwise.

The next meeting shuffled around the corner and she came. Her appearance was different. Her hair was cut a few inches shorter and she only smiled when necessary. Spain, Germany, and most of the Latin females hovered around her for almost an entire day.

Whenever asked 'Are you okay?' She simply stated that she had came down with a flu and was terribly sorry. All but one nation ignored one simple change that had gone on during this drama.

"Alfred? Where'd you get those glasses? " Only someone as observant as Matthew Williams could identify the small change. All countries turned to America, postponing whatever they had been doing before to hear his explanation. He backed away slowly.

"O-oh these? They're just an old pair I found while cleaning my basement!" He exclaimed.

"Then what happened to Ixchels?" Matthew continued to question his older brother bravely.

"Preciosa, where are your glasses?" Spain hugged his daughter.

She slowly pointed to America and started to cry, letting the warm, salty tears run down her face.

Pablo joined her, crouching, and hugged her along with Spain. All heads swiveled around back to America who now drew his gun in frantic defense.

"Well it's mine now! You can't take it back!" He yelled, laughing maniacally.

" You bloody wanker!" England shouted and lunged for the gun. As he lunged, he managed to make Alfred pull the trigger on the poor Latin nations. One of the stray bullets lodged itself in North Mexico's chest.

"Oof! Ngh!"Pablo fell backwards. Another bullet was fired. This time it landed in South Mexico's left arm.

"Nghah!" She wailed in pain and knelt even closer to the ground, next to her younger brother, who lay sprawled out, dead, on the floor.

"Brother? Hermano! T-this is no time to be t-taking a siesta! Please? Wake up! Hermano? Hermano!" She screamed. Spain flinched. He knew it wasn't the first time she lost someone dear to her. She had witnessed her mother's bloody death while giving birth to her brother. After that, he made the two twins both suffer the late of learning a whole new religion and culture, forgetting their own. He had also shut them away from the world, only recently did they gain their independence from him.

Ixchel's body quivered in quiet sobs.

"He had only lived nineteen years! Why?" She asked herself. She buried her head in his stomach and carefully caressed his head. "¿Por qué toda la gente que amo sufre?"

She yelled into his chest.


End file.
